NEW YORK POSTERBOY

by ClockWork Cros

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about

All Album & Singles Art By Crosby.

Individual Tracks Credited on Song Page.

Album Cover Photo by Ryan John Lee.

credits

released January 12, 2012

.
For Immediate Release:
CROSBY "NEW YORK POSTERBOY"

Straight up from the steaming streets of the Big Apple, a young, ambitious rapper called Crosby just released his digital album "New York Posterboy" online, available through the website www.NewYorkPosterboy.com. The budding artist, also known alternatively as Crosmopolitan and Clockwork Cros, was born in Bellevue to a noted multidisciplinary artist couple from the East Village. From an early age, Crosby became a public figure; he appeared in promo breaks for MTV, fashion photographs by Steven Klein and Tom Munroe and spreads in L'Uomo Vogue, Soma and Pop; posters for the Winter X-Games; music videos by Spike Jonez, Jim Spring, Micheal Gondry and R. Kern and an album cover for Cop Shoot Cop's "Ask Questions Later". He interned at Def Jam, worked at Jeffrey Dietch Projects and for 5 years Crosby produced the multi-artist showcase Hip Hop Howl for the Howl! Festival in the East Village, while also bringing that troupe to the SXSW Festival 3 years running. Currently, Crosby directs music videos for his company Photo-POW and is also the visual artist behind all the cover art and web design for Swizz Beatz' weekly series Monster Mondays.

Crosby has built a vast reservoir of musical material in collaboration with a host of emerging local talent and is now poised to take Gotham by storm with a series of solo album releases, one per month for the next several months, of which "New York Posterboy" is the first. The record is unified by a series of sketches placed within none other than the newsroom of Murdoch's flagship and New York's most popular newpaper, the Post, as a cub reporter that reminds me of my younger self convinces his editor to allow him to break the story of Crosby's splash into the NYC music biz. Using industry beats and a wide range of sampled sounds, Crosby's aural montages express postmodern sensory overload and the funky syncopation of the life of a native New Yorker. Songs such as "The Wait is Ova", "Born in the City" and "Museum Music" show a hip intensity and cultural savvy in his poetry and delivery. Though this is a Hip Hop mixtape, it reminds this pundit of the highly entertaining, hyperkinetic sound of one of his favorite rock records from back in the day: The Mothers of Invention's "Freak Out." His future releases promise to be even more eclectic and innovative.

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ClockWork Cros New York

Crosby is not a #brand. . . Crosby is an #artist. . .

1.ARTIST: #recording "music" & #fine "clocks"

2.DIRECTOR: #film "video" & #fashion / #graphic "design"

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Track Name: DOWNTOWN pt.1
DownTown pt.1 Lyrics

Verse One
With no introduction. You know what it is/
I shine as bright as the lights over the bridge/
how pretty that city looks crazy/ it amazes me/
In my demise, I'm a die in the same New York that made me/
I tried to live my life right, but I could be wrong/
I'm good as gone, just dust in the wind with my hoody on/
Forget all I had in my past, when they scatter my ash/
It just a matter of cash attacks like my ashma I gasp/
Complex concepts, you cant understand the nonsense/
The only thing you need to knows is my flows content/
I'll be the first one to say it and the last one to wait/
So I can wake up tomorow to hear what happened today/
I can't wait for the change or just make it the same/
I'll only end up dead either way, just a date and a name/
Always underground rotten, when I'm old and death got me/
I can watch my spirit float over my dead body/
Hook
MY DOWN IS DOWN IN DOWNTOWN, I'M TAKIN'EM DOWN (x3)
I'M DOWN IN DOWNTOWN, I'M DOWN....
Track Name: MONSTER
"MonsteR" Lyrics

Tell my girl she's deaded, I gotta catch this flight
Check it, my phone is deaded and I ain't gonna write
It's instinct and these things I cant help
I'ma monster, I want her all to myself
I ain't at the airport or the clear port
Holla at Donnis at the air force
I'ma fighter jet and she's mighty wet
on my vampire life, I'ma bite her neck
I cut her like a credit card
I cut her off and she ended up in bettyford
I gave her more than she was asking for
thought she was possessed that's what all these straps are for
each bar I kick packs a monster punch
my monster mami packs a monster lunch
so clear the way when a monster comes
speeding in Bjork army of me monster truck
I think I feel new teeth coming in
I'm lovin' it so if your salty I'ma rub it in
directing music videos in all white linens
and the shades never come off, not even when I'm swimming
eating finger food, bigger moves, how I'm living
so if your on the menu, bon appetit, ya dinner
even Nicki Minaj can get it
give her head, I'll let her put her kitty on my fitted
use barbies like toys
until she addicted to white boys
don't pay attention to the white noise
you are now listening to the sounds of my voice
ClockWork Cros, Crosmopolitan
Crosby, what the hell are they callin' him
hangin' with Gorillaz and kids with guns
city of gods steez, run into these kids your done
monsters sin for fun, im drinkin' rum
in any even club, ima bring my drugs
higher than a chandelier, double fistin' cans of beer
watch me disappear in the air, when the lights appear
please clear the way, I'm not here to play
in the studio late, doin' three a day
it's showtime, so I don't need a doctor
I'm co signed by the big homie the monsta
six EP's, debut album of the year
which part of that didn't you hear or isn't clear
while they on facebook all just taggin' me
I'm gunnin' for every cover of every magazine
there he goes again on that crazy shit
I'ma fuckin' genius bitch, call that amaziness
just giving ya'll a taste, what ya dyin' for
cause I'ma motherfuckin' monster and now ya know
Track Name: BORN IN THE CITY Feat. The Underdogz (Otis Clapp & Warren Britt)
**Crosby Verse**
from the first book i looked at. i took it as a reminder...
i'm a leader to the fighter, fighting for nine to fivers...
a nine eleven survivor, ticking bomber with timer...
writer pulling all nighters writing up in the dinner...
born and raised in the fire outta Loisaida...
down the block from the bikers, leather jackets and bare wire...
everybody got a flyer, out of towners now insider...
even though the buildings get higher, cant change the stripes on a tiger...
open hydrant with pliers, quarter waters, papaya...
the music that i play makes the weight on my back lighter...
life cant delivery a surprise greater than a cipher...
so when i hear a new verse, my thirst cant get any hyper...
always been the type to wanna get loud and inspire...
the crowda get wider than tires spinnin like a dryer...
its a cycle. the moment someones fired someones hired...
why you think they call it nyc gotham city the empire...
~~~
**Otis Clapp Verse**
Who woulda thought growin up in New York that i would spark
and get paid everyday for the way that i talk
the city never sleeps so be on your feet..
theres a million and one ways that ya could eat
its like here in New York its hard to trust shit
cuz since 9/11 everyones a suspect
cops harrass my ass on the regular,treat me like a predator for being on the cellular i heard money dont grow off trees,so im baggin up trees to watch my money grow...please im on the grind like a fat bitch shoes
cops recognize us by tattoos
N.Y. real gully but its run by Jews
but i get new paper like the first day of school
born in the city,get it on in the city
if u aint come correct,you gone in the city...bye bye
~~~
**Warren Britt Verse**
Coney Island Hospital...1984...elizabeth would push a prophet who'd identify the logical...use my reasoning wore Timberlands through all seasons...manhattan streets bleeding everytime we hit the cement, walk up out the train station, sight amazing with my mind blazing, look around and stay patient, thorugh observation, you're a witness to stardom, a brooklyn heart hardens in harlem, city of poverty, cold stares nobody bothers me, lights flash cameras glare that's just a part of me, you can't pardon me, i been got across Brownsville corners and i'll take you to the spot, it's all fair it's a part of the game i hope the kid sees the screen and remembers the name, a rose from concrete warren britt he, represents new york city, ride with me now...
Track Name: PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOYANCE
"Public Service Annoyance" Lyrics

They said... I'm already dead. I think I died
I think...I wanna rap on everything that's fly
I'm like Andy Warhol with bling on...that nonsense
I compete with myself. No Contest
I'm an artist..hear these tracks that I paint on
You don't feel like a rapper throw ya chains on
Shackles hand cuff...fuck for a name dogs
Money Power Respect is that what you changed for?
Be ashame that whats fames for
Shit you mustve forgot what came for
All these cats making tracks like fast food
Good for a few chews then leave you in a bad mood
so quick to steal the vision while our souls lookin
Ill do ya soul good...I'm like home cooking
I'm not interested in the lights and the fancy cars
I'm just tryin to do my thing around these dancin stars
Just little old me. These raps and no guitar
Said I came soo..close but no cigar

they said....television killed the radio dead...
I'm like Tom Yorke with a radio head
while the blogs telling me what I got to say...
I'm tryin to pay my rent...selling a clock a day
I think too much I think my brain gone bust....
I came on up out the ashes watch the flames erupt..
a phoniex with the flow but they say I suck....
fuck em..they don't know nothing.. I just say so what
all the views in the world couldn't save em now...
may the lord hush the crowd...hater all sit down...
when I..think I'm nicer.. it's only just a cipher
gettin fifthteen minutes like a call up out of rikers
so when i get that call from my man up in that box
I tell em don't be scared or play fair when they pop
watch'em all drop like my heart when it stops
I'm to smart just to watch with this art that I got
I wasn't playin' when i say get out my way
I don't like all the games. This my psa
Track Name: MUSEUM MUSIC Feat. Niamson
"Museum Music" Lyrics

**Niamson Verse**
Take a walk on my side of the fence
Where music is so intense
Art's extremity takes lessons
From its immense style
And at the same time
Is influenced
By definition of reason
For no coincidence
Even in my darkest days I -
Manage to find ways
Of paintin' a picture
Perfect enough to fit on display
Whether it be by hand
Or in a can that I spray
My projection of self aggression's
Viewed by who relates
A modern Michael for what I
Choose to try to create
Both Angelic and Devilish
In the form of a Saint
Check my last name
You don't believe me
I say the same
As I sign off
Leaving my signature on a train
My sound like Picasso
In a spiccato ain't fancy
I'm more the rebellious type
You can call my Banksy
On my Warhol shit
Cause fashion is my lane
As I laugh at these amateurs
I'm Basquiat'n the game
Not droppin' from the top position
Where I reign
My proposition for stayin' on top
Is how I remain
One of the illest dudes
To put his life on Canvas
Paint brush dreams is what they see
And can't stand but,
I ain't mad cause
I'm truely intense see,
My Leonardo Louis
Got me lookin' like Da Vinci
Monograms all on my sonogram
My unborn child that I devour like Saturn
Is viewed on a stand

**Crosby Verse**
If the tracks the canvas, Than my voice the brush
Like its coarse and rough, so my tones the touch
Flowing through mediums when I switch it up
It's picturesque, clock faces that I'm quick to cut
Full moon, Un Chein Adlou, before I slit the eye
My show got more red dots than a Lichtenstein
I'm not only trying to paint a picture when I kick a rhyme
I'm trying to get inside your mind like your Hypnotize
As a little kid I was the least caring, I just keep swearing
Watch the street staring like I'm Kieth Haring
The Renaissance turn on when the scenes baring
Frescos like Michelangelo it seemed daring
Critics quick to hang you like art that museums handle
Picasso wordplay means the same thing just from different angles
The surrealist live on, I'm André Breton , I'm bomb
before I'm gone, I Jackson Pollock the song